


Gone, gone, gone

by the_authors_exploits



Category: The Song of Achilles - Madeline Miller
Genre: Angst, M/M, POV Achilles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-16
Updated: 2016-08-16
Packaged: 2018-07-24 09:03:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7502331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_authors_exploits/pseuds/the_authors_exploits
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Achilles isn't supposed to have fears, but he does</p>
            </blockquote>





	Gone, gone, gone

**Author's Note:**

  * For [destielydia](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=destielydia).



_“What has Hector ever done to me?”_

Achilles has always been branded as a strong willed, bullheaded, god-like being of strength and ferocity; and oh how he plays the part well! He breaks swords and shatters targets as if they are tender meet from a bone; he gripes and growls and roars, and the court riots in joy.

And then there is Patroclus, soft and sweet, like nectar from honey bees, so syrupy and delicious; he is kind and determined and so very mortal. He is not Achilles, this Achilles knows; he sees Patroclus and he sees a mortal. He sees Patroclus and he sees a dove, soft and smooth and delicate; he sees Patroclus and he sees something he can damage.

So he doesn’t touch, he doesn’t look; he curls a hand protectively around Patroclus’ arm as he stumbles in the woods and rights him with hardly a glance. He snatches a poisonous snake from Patroclus’ path and tells him not to worry; Achilles will be there to protect Patroclus, whenever and where ever.

_“What has Hector ever done to me?”_

There are times, when they lay together in the dark, that Achilles fears he will break Patroclus; oh, the boy can hold his own but he is a mortal and Achilles the child of a goddess. Achilles has crushed a man’s skull with barely any effort; to hold Patroclus close, to run a hand along his shoulders, seems heretical, tempting fate to destroy something beautiful.

Patroclus sometimes asks “why won’t you touch me?” and Achilles doesn’t know how to answer; he does not have the words, for he was never taught them. Taught fear and worry; he was taught pride and honor and weaponry and the art of war. He was taught to be fearless, to be violent, to be strong.

_“What has Hector ever done to me?”_

But there are moments where Achilles aches to hold him, to touch him, where Patroclus’ skin and hair is all he thinks about; the gentle callouses upon his fingers, the soft skin across his shoulders, his hair blowing in the breeze. In these moments, he touches Patroclus and tells himself not to; he takes hold of Patroclus’ hand to hoist him over a boulder or upturned tree, and remembers to keep his grip securing but not dangerous.

A firm grip, but a loose one, easy enough to not break bones but strong enough to pull the younger’s weight; Achilles fears harm, fears hearing Patroclus cry out in fright, fears seeing tears in those big eyes, fears hurting the valiant dove in someway.

So he schools his strength, and caps his anger; Patroclus, honorable, judicious, gentle, and powerful Patroclus, reins Achilles in.

Achilles might and temper are kept in check, everything always to honor Patroclus and make him proud.

_“What has Hector ever done to me?”_

Hector has taken Patroclus from Achilles; Patroclus’ bright smile, Patroclus’ calculated hands, Patroclus’ sweet voice.

Hector has taken Patroclus’ life, and therefore has killed Achilles.

_“What has Hector ever done to me?”_

People misconstrue Achilles’ anger; they say he fought like an animal, a demon, for the love of his life. And while, yes, Patroclus was his reasoning to fight, to kill, to destroy Troy as he had done, Patroclus was more his reason to stay his hand, to cautiously hold Patroclus under the moonlight, to quickly kill his enemies. What they forget, however, is that Patroclus was more than Achilles’ love.

Patroclus was more Achilles’ humanity, his reason to control his power and anger, than the catalyst of it all; without a dam, a river will flood and Achilles flooded easily.

_“What has Hector ever done to me?”_

“Remember me,” he would want to say, after all is said and done, after his ashes have mixed with Patroclus’, “As the man who squandered his love and lost it, as the man who could not hold a delicate dove in his palm; remember me not for the blood I shed but the tears.”


End file.
